


Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating

by Miyukitty



Series: Xander Laslow Week 2016 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Bad Flirting, Belly Dancing, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fade to Black, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Power Dynamics, Teasing, Xanlow Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miyukitty/pseuds/Miyukitty
Summary: "One condition, milord," Laslow whispered. He began dancing slowly, deliberately, candlelight catching every curve.  "…No touching."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Xanlow Week 2016 Day 1: dance
> 
> I'm just so excited to be here!! I'm sorry this is the first thing I'm contributing tho, please everyone create lovely things bc [we need more xanlas content](https://twitter.com/Magepaw/status/779387757659512832)! (・∀・) 
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> ...you know exactly what costume he's wearing ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

  


 

"One condition, milord," Laslow whispered.

  


Strings of gold coins were slung low along the crest of his hips, jingling to accent each swaying step. Strains of festival music from the streets of Windmire drifted in through the open window, the snatches of incidental accompaniment ebbing and flowing with the evening breeze. Laslow began dancing slowly, deliberately, candlelight catching every curve.

  


 "…No touching."

  


Xander swallowed hard and folded his hands obediently in his lap. Not for the first time, he wondered where Laslow learned to dance like this. He was a different man when he performed – confident, assured, sultry. He already didn't trust himself to speak for fear of breaking whatever spell Laslow had utterly ensnared him with.

  


From where Xander was seated, the flickering candle flame painted Laslow's bare skin in rich hues of olive and warm amber. His costume was something foreign, unfamiliar despite Xander's extensive studies of the cultures assimilated within the ever-expanding borders of Nohr. He thought briefly of the extravagant dancers of Cyrkensia, and how even the terpsichorean magic they wove on the grand stage had not made his heart pound quite so hard as Laslow dancing in his bedchamber.

  


Xander drew a shaky inhale, and pushed the distracting thoughts aside, focusing solely on the private performance.

  


Laslow bent suddenly, tossing his head back and his arms out with fluid grace. Xander's rapt gaze traveled the length of gauzy silk that trailed from the dancer's slim wrists, following the outward movement all the way to the tips of his extended fingers. Laslow swayed, letting his arms fall to his sides before they rose again, coins clinking as he pushed his hips into the dance. Skin stretched taut over the lean muscles of Laslow's stomach as the motion rippled through his abdomen.

  


Xander forgot how to breathe.

  


A moment later, he coughed and sputtered, startled back to reality by the brush of Laslow's fingers against his knee. He shifted uncomfortably in the rigid chair, readjusting his legs. It was probably unintentional contact, he reasoned, given that Laslow seemed absorbed in his routine. The rule was no touching, after all, and this performance was a rare treat. He could maintain his composure.

  


Xander settled back, palms pressed flat against his thighs in an attempt to steady himself. Laslow hummed a tune as he turned in a slow circle, coins flashing enticingly with every dip and rock of his hips. Xander could only tear his gaze away far enough to be swept up the curve of Laslow's spine as he arched backward, dropping low to the floor and spinning as he rose again.

  


The second time, the hand on his leg lingered, fingers trailing deliberately up his thigh before playfully withdrawing. Xander exhaled sharply through his nose, fists bunching up in the fabric of his trousers. He believed he had more discipline than this, although if he didn't know better, he'd think Laslow seemed to take pleasure in testing all of his limits.

  


"Laslow," he tried to warn, but his attempt at sounding stern just came out too low, too rough. He cleared his throat over the sound of Laslow's chuckle.

  


There was no missing the mischievous smile now as the dancer twirled closer, straying into the space between Xander's spread knees. Laslow ran his hands down his own bare stomach, rolling his body to the rhythm of the jingling coins. He was just barely out of breath, sweat visibly beading up on his bare skin.

  


"This is highly, erm," Xander tried to protest, but the words failed to form on his tongue as Laslow leaned in closer.

  


Xander quickly sat on his hands, but nothing stopped him from leaning in for a whiff of Laslow's floral perfume – something enticing with notes of jasmine, rose, and the spice of cinnamon. He drew another deep inhale despite himself. The dancer draped his silken scarf over Xander's shoulders and tugged gently, edging him forward by another inch.

  


"Something on your mind, milord?" Laslow whispered innocently. The title sounded far more teasing than respectful on his lips. Soft brown eyes twinkled in the low light, long eyelashes fluttering too close to Xander's cheek, blush tingeing his ear tips pink as he tried to catch his breath. Gods, was Laslow beautiful tonight.

  


Xander was very aware that his bed was tantalizingly close, just in the peripherals of his vision. It would take so little effort for him to fling Laslow down onto the mattress from here, and it would be so rewarding to give in. Xander released a shuddering exhale when he remembered to breathe again.

  


"I thought the one condition was no touching," the crown prince accused hoarsely.

  


"Right, for you. Hands to yourself, milord," Laslow smirked. "You're not allowed to manhandle me. But I've got you right where I want you," he added with a cheeky wink, deliberately rolling his body so that his hips brushed against Xander's lap.

  


Xander bit his lip to stifle a groan. He refused to go back on his word, not when giving Laslow the reins had filled him with such alluring confidence. Xander had consented to give up control tonight, and it left him utterly at Laslow's mercy.

  


He was surprised to learn how much he enjoyed it.

  


"…I hope you're prepared to accept punishment for this later," Xander choked, as Laslow settled gracefully into his lap to continue his dance. His hands folded behind Xander's head, wrists draped over his shoulders, smiling lips mere inches from Xander's face.

  


"Oh, I'm counting on it," Laslow purred.

**Author's Note:**

> canon Laslow quote: _"But my dances are for art! They're not meant to be...enticing. Not like that!"_
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> me, a terrible person: what if he changes his tune once they've been dating a while and he sees what he can do to Xander. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ ~~pOWER DYNAMICS~~
> 
> :) feel free to yell at me on twitter @magepaw


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